


Chaotic Connections

by oh_captain



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Conspiracy, Cora Hale & Scott McCall friendship, F/M, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Psychological Torture, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2014-02-12
Packaged: 2017-12-31 02:28:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oh_captain/pseuds/oh_captain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>TAHO and A&Co. have a very shaky agreement to help each other find A&Co.'s top 2 best (missing) agents. </p><p>And those 2 agents may or may not be missing for a bigger reason than the rest are ready for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Alliance (temporary and weak)

Scott walked into Deaton’s office, watching his partner steadily. Something was bothering her and normally he'd pull her aside and talk it out, like he would with any other operative, but he knew what was wrong and this was an issue he couldn't resolve with a firm talking to.

He'd already tried, a couple times. Each lead to the same result. Her being more pissed off and not working with him beyond the needed amount of team work. He'd found this out the hard way awhile ago.

For now, he just trailed in behind her into their bosses office.

She was in a mood and he didn’t feel the need to get into this. This was too important, Cora's beehive of feelings didn't need to be shaken by him.

Deaton looked up when they came in, smiling. His office was much like him, on the surface it was bright and friendly, windows all behind him and potted plants bright and well cared for. But the seats weren't comfortable for a reason and there was more protection around Deaton than a first glance, or even a fifth, might allow. 

It wasn't personal, the colors were all blue and grey, and it was clean almost to a fault. It always made Scott stiffen and feel on edge. Made him ready for an attack. It was an odd idea that this would be his office if everything went alright on this assignment.

Deaton had suggested as much over the phone, last night when he'd scheduled this meeting. After all, he had to ensure the two agents understood the importance of what would be going down today.

Not to mention, Deaton loved Scott, like the son Scott wasn't sure Deaton even had. He had paired him up with Cora because "he had faith in Scott's leadership skills", to quote. He always had faith in Scott, having practically raised the boy, teaching the younger so much. Maybe not _all_ he knew, but quite a bit of it. 

Deaton was a very mysterious man afterall. No one really knew him, beyond that he was the 43rd successor to this rent-a-spy agency. Well funded, it had been running for many decades, thanks to a family called the Hale's. It was amazing what agencies like these were hired for. How highly valued they were, how often they were sent out.

The agency liked two man cells, made the success rate higher and made them look better on paper for those considering to hire these agents services. Whether you keep your partner in the basement or in the feild with you, depended on how you two tested together.

"The basement" was just code for where the computer geeks stayed, directing their partners through satelites, heat signatures and camera/audio feeds. If you two tested to be better together apart like that, the one less inclined to feild work would be drilled on the equipment and they would be run ragged on test runs in those scenarios. Feild work agents were run through different courses.

They-they being the rent-a-spy agency-promoted having teamwork like that, having a bond like that. So the other would always try and save their partner if things went south. They would always want the same goal met in the end.

Cora was a bit much for everyone else they tried to pair her with, always had been. She'd been a risk to TAHO, but her skills were valued, so she was brought in anyway. They hoped her reckless tendencies would lessen under Scott's watch, hoped he'd see her for the weapon she could be. She was a Hale, afterall and her family had built this company.

Scott saw her more as a pesky little sister, in all honesty. Saw her as more than just a weapon, and knew she had layers he couldn't ignore like the bureau wanted. His disobedience to them was why she respected and listened to him as much as she did.

It proved to her he wasn't some doll they would manipulate once he took over. His moral compass wasn't always north, but he did know right and wrong in most cases, and he had many friends to guide him.

“Ah! There you two are!” Deaton smiled.

“Yeah, you said we had to come here.” Cora snapped, crossing her arms and on defense.

“Yes, I did, and here you are,” Deaton’s smile turned mocking, as if testing her to continue on like that with him. Scott had no doubt if she kept up with that, Deaton would rile her up more, just to prove he could.

Cora rolled her eyes, shifting away from him and adjusting her arms. Her gaze glared to the cieling, before falling to the floor. Scott wanted to roll his own eyes from her childish behaviour. It was just poor taste, her being a top agent and all.

“How can we help, Deaton?” Scott smiled, instead. He'd save it for later. "You told us last night A&Co. was involved, that this was important."

“You can help by taking on this mission.” Deaton held out a few manila file folders. They were filled with papers, and Scott and Cora were familiar enough with them to know what was on them. Not specifically, but a general idea. 

The who what when where specifics for the assignment. The mission.

Scott took them, finding their top competitor's (A&Co.) agreement to work with TAHO (True Alpha Hiring Organization) on finding two M.I.A. workers. It was the actual agreement, set with guidelines for the TAHO agents to follow, and detailing what would happen if they didn't recover them. Scott was sure he'd have to look this over before he could even begin to try and find the two agents. 

Landmines and politics would be more important in the beginning. It would need his undivided attention the moment he was alone with it.

The files held no pictures, just rough descriptions and fake names (Because Stiles? Really? Little sloppy there A&Co.) that went along with who they were lokking for. It had the bare minimum on what they were working on and their work history with past missions. Enough for Cora and Scott to get a feel for the agents, but not really know them at all.

In the files, there was also locations, names, and A&Co.'s privacy policy and payment agreements. It explained they would need receipt's of anything the TAHO agent's felt they needed to be paid back for, and reasonable need to be paid back for. It also explained that if everything went well, the agency might speak of ending the... in their words "barbariac feud" between companies.

It wasn't unknown that TAHO and A&Co. mutually sabotaged operation's because clients knew they weren't afraid of doing so. There was no agreement holding them back from doing so to each other, and since clients were aware that it wasn't something either company minded, they were hired to do such thing's all the time. 

Putting those kind of acts to rest would cause a certain camaraderie to come between these two and they would be able to mutually reach new clients they didn't before, come upon new and better technology together and have more resources available towards future projects. It'd do both of the companies well for this to happen, though if it didn't, the fact still remained they could draw more clients by the fact they aren't afraid of attacking A&Co. agents.

“Stiles? Wow, are they just not trying?” Cora snorted, saying Scott’s very thought’s out loud.

He smiled, and dunked his head a bit to keep from laughing his agreement. He had to behave like the future head of this company, and laughing in front of his boss wouldn't be appropriate. He had to focus on the business aspect, even if it meant swallowing the pill of obvious lack of care put into these files.

“Lydia…” He murmured the name to himself, rolling it around. Testing it in the air. He stared at the description page of the girl and tried not to feel impressed a 5'2" red headed girl managed to be one of the top agents. Normally girl's described as short and having a dress size of 2 were eye candy, not deadly assassin.

“They need help, these two have been missing for almost three months.” Deaton paused. “And these two are some of A&Co.’s finest. So, I trust you two to take care of this. This is a delicate alliance, as I told you last night, Scott.”

Deaton took his time, looking to Scott, not starting until Scott's eyes went up from the papers to Deaton's own. “You are going to be talking to A&Co. and writing reports, not just for me, but them as well. They qualify this as their highest importance, their own agent's couldn't find these two. There's a lot of doubt that we can. You'll be representing all of TAHO in this assignment, and that's a heavy burden." Deaton held Scott's gaze the entire time, until the younger nodded slowly in understanding.

He then focused his attention to his best agent's partner. "Cora, you will be, as always, doing whatever Scott tells you, as you are under his supervision. I know that these people have hurt you and your family, but this is a job. This has nothing to do with your personal history with them, they need our help and after the _fiasco_ that was the Diamond Assignment, you don't have much leeway on this, Ms. Hale."

Cora snorted, shifting her weight onto her left leg and bending her right knee. She looked both shamed and pissed off, and Scott winced on her behalf. They weren't equal, they both knew it, but Scott always let her have say in what they did. They were a team and he valued her, she knew that. But it always rubbed her wrong that Scott got Golden Boy treatment, even if he deserved it.

"This is dangerous and you’re some of TAHO’s best. They are waiting for you two outside. My best wishes,” Deaton's serious air didn't fade even as he smiled at the end of his speech. He made sure to look them both in the eyes before letting them look away.

Scott sighed as soon as Deaton's focus fell, nodding, but not walking out yet. Cora looked to Scott, inquisitive.

"I want to look these over before we go out. To know our do's and dont's, you know, just in case I mess up as soon as I open my mouth." Scott grinned at her. 

"Like you usually do?" Cora inclined a brow, teasing.

"Exactly." Scott hummed his agreement, reading the agreement page by page. 

Deaton was ignoring them, in favor of reading paperwork, and cross referencing something on his desktop. He was used to agents doing this, and he would admit it to no one, the pride that tingled at his fingertips over how Scott was handling this. Every bit the leader Deaton knew him to be.

Silence stretched for almost two hours before Scott bumped Cora, who had started reading her own files out of boredom. He motioned with his chin towards the door, before opening it.

She walked out in front of him, letting him close the door quietly behind him. She craned her head to see over her shoulder, to look at him curiously as he guided her towards the elevator. His files were clutched tightly in his left hand, his right on her left elbow. 

“Ready to go infiltrate the enemy?” Scott asked, a mischievous smile tugging onto his lips. She would say he looked ready to face them, if she couldn't feel the tight grip on her arm, if she didn't see the way he tensed every step closer to the lift.

Cora smiled a little and rolled her eyes. To reassure her fearless leader. There was a lot of pressure on him to complete this mission, but there was a lot of pressure on him anyway. She knew he was strong, he just needed to be reminded again.

Sure, maybe she wouldn't hug him, maybe she wouldn't spill out some sappy speech, but she had her own way. They were a team, he knew she had his back, no matter what.

“Come on 007,” She pulled him away to the elevator.

Scott grinned wider, his grip relaxing a bit.

The ride down wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, Cora guessed, as Scott spent the majority lecturing her on not provoking A&Co. agents, and much much more. She would be all too glad to say it went through one ear and out the other, but she listened, sadly, and mumbled her reluctant agreeance.

They exited their headquarters to find an unliscenced black SUV waiting for them, door opening as they approached.

Slender arm, Scott noticed, worn, dainty hands. It was a woman about their age, who had expeirence with either a guitar, bass, ukelele or bow and arrow. He let Cora in first before climbing in and closing the door behind him, coming face to face with a pale, brunette that had a pretty face. Sadly, said face was broadcasting distrust and the promise of war. 

They started forward and silence took over for a minute as Scott floundered over how to start. 

It was awkward, and the brunette girl staring them down with a look anyone else would call ‘death glare’ wasn't making it any easier on either TAHO operative.

Cora sat, stiff beside him, with her arms crossed, glaring out the window and Scott tried not to outwardly show how out of place he felt. He was sure he'd seen this girl in front of them before, and he was sure it was a mission where he sabotaged her mission plan. 

Russia, he was sure, she was guarding some rich millionare that came up with amazing software, military grade. He helped infiltrate the man's security detail, he remembered her heading it, yelling at men three times her size as he cut the wires to signal trespassers.

He doubted that was a good conversation starter though, so he started with what he knew of her simply.

“So… you’re Allison Argent?” He asked, trying to seem friendly. He had to stay on the good side of these agents, his career depended on it.

The girl snapped her eyes to him, from looking them over blandly to sharp focus. She gave a tight nod. “You’re Scott,” She twitched her lips into a tight smile. It looked really forced. He tried not to twitch with annoyance.

“We’re the people who are going to be helping you find your missing agents.” Cora shot a glare to Allison. "You could try being more hospitable." 

Allison glared back, until Scott put his hand on Cora’s arm, making Cora roll her eyes and look away. Allison flicked her eyes to his hand before looking to him, as if trying to calculate what the gesture meant between the two.

“Whatever,” Cora grumbled lowly.

“Is there anything you can tell us that the files couldn’t?” Scott asked, shifting tones and tactics. He shuffled said files to find the one he needed, flicking it open before looking to her.

“Well, no, not really. Seeing as how I wrote those files. But, just in case, we’re taking you to our base. Maybe you’ll find out things we couldn’t. Thing's others felt uncomfortable sharing with someone of higher rank, when they might get in trouble.” Allison looked a little pained to admit it, but Scott got the feeling she wanted these two found by whatever means.

Scott smiled reassuringly. “We’ll do our best.” He told her, trying to be helpful.

She glared. “I expect nothing less,” She said as the SUV stopped. She opened the door and got out without further prompting, leaving the door open for them.

Cora looked to Scott. “If this is how they all act, I’m out,” She pointed after the Argent.

“I’m sure it’s just the thought of some of her agents missing. That’s all. How would you act if Derek and Boyd went missing for months and you had to get an A&Co. agent to find them?” Scott raised a brow, waiting for her to make a move. For her to explain her great plan, cocked eyebrow waiting.

She glared at him before letting out a frustrated groan. "Suppose I’d act the same. Fine, fine, I’ll play nice,” She grumbled and got out, maybe stomping her feet a little. Scott would mock her later.

Instead, he felt too grateful to do so at the moment.

“Thank you,” Scott smiled, relief flooding him as he got out as well and stared at the nondescript building in front of him.


	2. Indepence (or lack there of)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's dark and she's alone.

It’s dark and she’s alone.

Lydia blinked a couple times, trying to see past the blur of her vision from the blow she had taken to the temple, aka the reason she had been knocked out. It hurt and she couldn't focus too much, but she wasn't not going to try.

“I told them not to hurt you,” A voice called to her. It was male, low, but not too low, far enough away to be at least ten to fifteen feet between them. She couldn't tell where the voice came from, but she was sure it didn't matter. Waking up alone with no real sense of where she was and who'd brought her kind of made it hard to think.

Well, at least she thought she was alone.

He was older than Stiles, unfamiliar to her. His voice gave her no clue to who might be lurking around in the shadows.

She stiffened, every muscle getting ready to attack, to shiver and struggle and kick and scream, but relaxed almost immediatly before she could act on any of those instincts.

Don’t let him think you’re scared, Stiles voice said in her head. They'd trained for situations like these, she would be fine. She was Lydia fucking Martin, like hell she'd let someone else show her up.

“Well, I guess you’re not that great a leader if you can’t get your guys to do one simple thing,” She managed, voice coming out scratchy and weak, but slowly growing stronger.

“You’re one to talk.” The man snorted. He was getting closer, and her vision was finally focusing the longer she blinked and tried to make it stop swimming.

“Oh?” She asked, looking around for him now. It wasn't too bright, she couldn't see him and she didn’t want to twist around just in case she got woozy or it made her captor agitated. Her hands were tied to the chair she was in (which _ow_ , her back) and her ankles were tied as well. Flex cuffs, she realized after trying them once or twice.

She let her head fall forward a bit to take in her status.

The clothes she wore were the ones from the bar to meet up with Stiles and the two informants by the names of Gustavo and Guinevere, who were making them fake ID’s and giving them a place to stay until they would be safe.

She didn’t have her weapons was the only difference, her holster of weapons that went under her skirt was gone, her shoes felt more roomy and her bra didn’t have the odd shape to it when you put more than three pocket knifes two hand held guns an actual gun and a machete there.

They’d taken everything. 

It made her feel exposed and vulnerable in a way she hadn't felt in years. She thought she had beaten that out of herself years ago, when she first realized she was good at the whole, "secret agent" thing. It was jarring to have the feeling rolling in her stomach again.

“Yes, now, sweet Lydia, tell me what you found out,” A man stepped around from behind her, brown hair and a nice face. Something about him was familiar, piercing blue eyes filled with delight. It tickled the corner of her thoughts, making her grit her teeth against the frustration she knew would only build up id she tried to remember now.

“How about no?” She smiled, pushing all her other fears and anxieties away to seem nonchalant to this man.

“Don’t be like that! We can do this the easy way, or the hard way. And if your statement doesn’t match up with Mr. Stiles in the other room, then we’ll just keep going until they do match,” The man, Lydia realized suddenly as he flourished a dramatic wave of his hand, was Peter Hale. She'd scene his over-dramatic act before he killed Kate Argent and a couple other A&Co. agents, publicly, like courtyard hangings were still a thing.

She smiled again, happy that Peter admitted Stiles was here, and alright. “You think you’re going to get anything from Stiles?”

“Lydia, use your ears, we’re already getting things from Stiles,” Peter sighed, giving her a pointed, reprimanding look.

Lydia faltered. Would Stiles… no…

Instead, she listened. Listened past their room and finally picking up on what Peter meant. She could hear Stiles. Screaming.

It was like ice water, she stiffened and a tremble ripped violently through her. “What are you doing to him?” She whispered in horror, voice small. She looked to Peter, who looked gleefully proud that she'd finally picked up on Stiles pain.

“Gerard is in there now, with him. I have no idea what is going on in there, but I bet it’s great. Think we can make you scream louder then him? Let’s find out.” Peter’s smile turned predatory.

 

Lydia’s throat ached, her arms hurt, her legs and torso shaking violently in aftershock.

She hurt everywhere. But she hadn’t said anything. Hadn't given up the months of deep cover research her and her partner had unvieled, hadn't made a peep, other than a please stop every now and then. She was barely conscious.

Everyday, Peter would come in and switch from physical torture to mental. Sometimes she’d listen to Stiles scream, until he quieted into subdued silence. Sometimes he hooked her up to a car battery. It really depended on his mood.

She felt exhausted, but always on. Grimy, dirty, trapped, but always awake. Always ready for whenever Peter would walk in. Would steal the light from her life and let her scrape together what she could in the aftermath. She felt like she was going crazy, always waiting for the door to open, for his familiar greeting. For his horrific acts.

Of course, that's when Peter walked in.

“Okay Lydia, we’ve had you both for awhile. And Stiles finally cracked.” He smiled, fore going the greeting entirely.

“Sang like a song bird, kept saying how angry you would be with him and how he just wanted it all to stop. Quite touching. Now that we know what you know, we’re going to kill you," Peter flicked out a fancy switch blade that Lydia had become intimate with. It caused a chill to settle in her bones. "...Unless you can give us more information than him, of course,” Peter smiled, other hand holding up a syringe filled with a blue liquid. He looked between them, as if choosing which to use first, and Lydia was sure he would be using both anyway.

Her mouth fell open in a harsh laugh. “You’re lying. Stiles wouldn’t say anything, this is the most childish thing you've tried. You're worse than an underfunded criminal tv show!" She murmured, smirk lazily on her lips, bloodied teeth peeking out as the smirk grew to a smile.

“Wouldn’t he?” Peter rose a brow. His lack of offense, of reaction chaffed at her, but it was Stiles they were talking about.

“He wouldn’t,” Lydia smiled, self assured. She knew Stiles, knew he wouldn’t crack this easy. 

“Even if we said we’d killed you because he didn’t tell us anything and we showed him pictures as proof?” Peter smile was sickeningly sweet. Charming, and decietful.

Lydia’s mouth went dry. “No,” She whispered, eyes locking with Peter’s. “Not even then.”

He huffed. “You both suck.” He grumbled.

She smiled, relaxing.


	3. Browncoats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are we going to have to ask you to wait outside while we go in?” Cora snapped. “Because you are cock blocking us from being a good rescue team.”
> 
> “Cora,” Scott reprimanded.
> 
> “What?” Cora snapped. “We’re doing our job, he could shove off for one second. Deaton wouldn’t be this antagonistic about it!”
> 
> “No, he wouldn’t, but this isn’t Deaton, this is Chris Argent and these two are considered family according to the man, so he has a right to be worried,” Scott said.

Finding the information of where they went wasn’t that hard. It wasn’t easy, by _no_ means was it easy, but it wasn’t the hardest thing ever.

Sure, it had taken up a solid month of their time, chasing barely credible lead after another to prove how willing TAHO was to cooperate. Sure, Cora had given Scott two (seperate) black eyes, and maybe Scott had roughed up a few shady leads more than necessary here and there. And suuure, the overall cunning of the backup plans set up had really fooled them a couple times. But they’d gotten past worse.

These two had obviously tried to cover their tracks, just not that hard. Not as hard he was sure they were capable of, if they wanted to leave the grid completley. There was enough effort to throw most people off into endless dead ends, but not enough to make it seem like it was all that important. 

The people who took them hadn’t really been prepared for them to be so undercover, so prepared (or seemingly, not prepared at all, from the rather abrupt end of their trail) for this exact scenario. This was a glaring mistake by the two agents, and Scott felt like they wouldn't make one on accident. Or, at least, that's what he told his partner when they were looking over all the facts the other night.

Cora had almost suggested to Scott that it was like they knew they'd be taken. They were being hunted.

But that’s stupid, Cora told herself, before she got Scott's lecture on trying to not accuse A&Co.'s top spies of espionage. If they were ‘like a family’ as Chris had said, they would have told him the problem.

She couldn't speak for how the agents and their director got along, how A&Co. really dealt with employees and clients. She mostly let Scott play diplomat, hanging around the base's mini fridge and microwave, asking the flirty basement worker, Danny, slightly nosy questions that he played off with a blush, boyish charm and loaded embarrassment.

Well, Danny, and Isaac, and Jackson, that one memorable ocasion. Cora had laughed so hard, Jackson's partner, Malia, had to grab her before she slammed into something.

Scott was good at playing whatever card he needed to, to get what he wanted. Almost scarily so, giving off a "you can trust me" vibe so easy to actually give in to without protest, mixed in with his patent pending "I could rock your world better than you could ever dream and still seem like a blushing virgin the entire time because I'm a dork" signature Scott feel, it seemed natural to want to loosen your lips around him.

He was just gifted with the ability, making use of it whenever he needed. Even to pry the warehouse's address from two Dumb and Dumber body guards they'd been lead to by the missing agents decoy and stupid, well prepared strings tying all the evidence together.

She had enjoyed watching Scott drink the thickly muscled men under the table, until the two others were drunk enough to tell him everything he wanted to know, nearly collapsing on him in the process. She even took a moment to herself once he motioned for the check, savoring his sour expression when he saw the total printed onto the reciept. She'd barely managed to not laugh when he tucked the black tab under one of their meaty paws and ran out before they could stop him.

(Later, when telling Chris an abridged version of how they got said address, the older would ask why Cora didn't use her womanly charm on them, a confused, concerned, primarily "dad" look spreading onto his face.

The answer, of course, was because Cora was a pushy, controlling, easily offended, rightly empowered woman that laughed in the face of stereotypes and sexist, ignorant men. She had no filter, and she wasn't afraid to drag a single man that tried to flirt, back to whatever hell dimension he came from.

The answer they actually told their temporary supervisor was that Cora hadn't been available thanks to her seventeen years of gymnastics that made her far less noticeable than Scott ever would, working security detail for any unexpected guest. It had made Chris stare between the two, brow wrinkling together in the middle as he tried to process their bogus excuses, before shaking his head and muttering under his breath as he dropped his face into his hands.

They felt since they had been hired, their client had aged, very unused to the tactics these agents used, and very out of depths trying to corral them like his own agents.)

The point is they had pinpointed the location to a building. A building they were about to flood with all sorts of agents, TAHO and A&Co. alike. 

Or they would have, if the security detail had arrived. Which, of course, it hadn't. A "technical error", thanks to miscommunication with the troops, or something. Honestly, she'd been so filled with annoyance and anger, it didn't quite reach her head for her to filter.

No back up on probably one of the most time consuming, hatred fueled, absolute waste of energy mission's she'd been detailed to ever? It didn't sit well, understandably with her or Scott.

She knew the meatheads had moves, the head of security being some blind guy that was a master in judo or something. The file she was given on him didn't concern her too much, but Scott did the reading, so she was sure it was fine. Cora preffered to physically take down the enemy, like she'd been taught all her life, Deucalion was going to be a nice notch in her belt.

She knew the underlings working for the blind "Demon Wolf" each had their unique styles, had watched them take down Boyd on the one night they let him tag along.  

Boyd who still hadn't been cleared for duty just yet. She was itching to repay the favor.

If she got injured, she'd have a case to review in court with A&Co. and she had happily let Scott know that she wasn't joking. If this company ruined her life by making her incapable of service, she would raze it to the ground.

Both partners made eye contact, as if they were both thinking the same "oh fuck", which they were, before nodding and adjusting sweaty palms on the big semi automatics in their hand.

No matter how many times they busted into a place, they always got those nervous jitters. It was nice to know their stomachs were twisting together, for a moment before breaking eye contact and taking those first steps.

They walked into the warehouse.

 

The door squealed as he opened it, but Scott wasn't too concerned. The small detail behind them only included 32 agents, and it made Scott feel more alert. More like every move mattered. Each person caused more worry than the slew of operatives that should have been with them. The ones getting each others backs, making sure no one could become a KIA agent.

“And you’re sure they're here?” Chris Argent asked, for maybe, oh, the fifth time, as he hovered slightly behind them. His blue eyes were knives sweeping harsh, surveying every where for movement. For the enemy.

“Are we going to have to ask you to wait outside while we finish this up?” Cora snapped, pausing near the doorway of where the lockers ended, the last coverage before they were left vulnerable in the empty space that took up most of the building. “Because you are cock blocking us from being a good rescue team.”

“Cora,” Scott reprimanded, voice stern as he paused in front of his teammate. He was scoping around, but she knew his attention was on her. 

“What?” Cora snapped. “We’re doing our job, he could shove off for one second. Deaton wouldn’t be this antagonistic about it!”

“No, he wouldn’t, but this isn’t Deaton, this is Chris Argent and these two are considered family according to the man, so he has a right to be worried,” Scott said, voice low and tight.

“Actually, he could be considered one of our BB’s, we haven't really covered that, Scott.” Cora pointed her gun listlessly at Chris, more of a gesture than anything.

It still had most of the A&Co. agents tensing.

Scott gave her a considering look before looking to Mr. Argent. He was thinking it over, letting someone who could be wasting all of their hard work to just kill them, that this was a sting job meant to tie up loose ends.

“Sir, I’m going to have to ask you to-“He started after a moment, voice serious in a way it hadn't been, different than his work stern.

Mr. Argent was on him in a second, gun in Scott’s face, pressing him to the row of blue metal lockers harshly. “You do not tell me what to do. These are my—“ He started, voice a tad too loud, and rough. He was emotional about leaving, Cora blinked before her grip on her gun became less nervous and more sure.

“I get it!” Scott interrupted, seeing Cora tense, gun trained on Mr. Argent’s knee. “I really do. We just have to be careful and look over every single option and possibility and sadly, you are one of them, so if you don’t get off of me, my colleague is going to pop your knee caps off.”

Mr. Argent scowled, unmoving for a second as he glared into Scott's eyes, before he roughly backed off of Scott, letting him go. “Fine—“ He started, voice lower, eyes trained around the warehouse again to see if any new threat was lying in wait.

A sudden explosion cut them off, knocking Chris back and causing agents to scatter. The tinkle of rubble hailing down and sudden smoke to start was more in the east end of the building, and was blocking the stairs leading down to the basement, and up towards the office.

Cora grabbed Scott to steady herself as the heat rolled over them suddenly, an after shock of the bomb.

That was really unexpected. 

“They must have the place set up against intruders,” Cora told Scott as she saw most of the agents out in the warehouse, searching for possible threats openly, and yealling a concise "clear!" when nothing was found. 

“Smart, we’d work better without the group following us, anyway,” Scott murmured for only her to hear as smoke started to creep and fog up their view. They both nodded and stayed low so it would cover them from any unwanted attention, heading for the basement stair case.

“Yeah, we would,” Cora agreed as she followed his weaving through the smog.

 

They were doing their ‘I’ll watch your back if you watch mine’ team deal when Cora paused.

Three doors sat there. They looked to each other.

“You go left, I’ll go right,” Scott grinned, “Save us some time if these are the wrong doors.”

Cora smirked. “Save us some time if we never helped the enemy, but whatever,” she grumbled.

Scott smiled. “Love you too, be safe,” and with that he went to the door. She went to the other one, they both looked to each other counting to three before opening the doors and going in.


	4. Purplebellies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They'd killed Lydia, he hadn't much else.

The door opened again, but Stiles wasn’t ready for Gerard. They’d killed Lydia, he didn’t have much else. He wasn’t telling them anything. Her life was worth more than this, and they’d ended it. He couldn’t lift his head, the depression so heavy on his shoulders. It also helped that he was so dehydrated and in so much pain that it didn’t matter if he did.

But Gerard didn’t say anything cutting like he usually did when he walked in.

Instead, a hand went to his neck, checking for… a pulse?

“I’m alive,” He rasped. “Haven’t killed me yet…”

“Is your name Stiles?” A girl’s voice said. Stiles tried looking up, barely managing, prying his eyes open. A blurry figure was there, a blob really.

“Yeah,” He rasped. “Are you here to put me out of my misery?” He asked.

“I’m here to get you and Lydia out of here,” The girl said face coming into view.

She was beautiful, in all honesty.

“Lydia’s dead.” He whispered.

“Scott,” She said into her ear piece.

A pause.

“You have Lydia? Confirm.” She looked to Stiles, rolling her eyes.

“She’s fine, better than you actually,” She told him, cupping the side of his face and moving it gingerly.

“Might want to hurry, got the schedule memorized. He’ll be here in 15 minutes, and that explosion? Maybe less,” Stiles slurred, pulling at the restraints on his person.

She moved her hands down, cutting off the ropes easily.

She did the same with the other hand and his ankles. She paused though, seeing the knife in his leg. He grinned at her. “That’s the easy part of it,” He told her. “Lucky I got you, right? You’re, like, really pretty, which means you have to be…” the next part faded as he drooped forward, chair no longer holding him tied.

 

He came to when a sharp stinging blossomed in his cheek. Nothing really hurt, but it was enough to get him blinking.

“Did I just get slapped?” He slurred.

“You need to stand up!” She said urgently. He shook his head but tried. She helped him, slinging his arm over her shoulders.

“I’m going to take you to dinner for this,” he slurred.

“Shut up,” She snapped.

“That’s cool too,” He said and focused on moving his legs.

She huffed when the managed to the door, leaning them both against the wall to see a guy carrying Lydia.

“Lydia,” Stiles tried, voice a little desperate and cracked. She snapped to face him.

“Stiles,” She gasped in relief.

Stiles grinned, showing bloody teeth.

The girl’s partner looked to her. “Switch? I can carry him,” He said, nodding to Stiles.

“Yeah,” and that was all the permission Stiles needed to stumble towards Lydia. Lydia clung to him.

“You’re alive,” Stiles whispered.

“We need to get out! Move!” And with that they were leaving, the man carrying Stiles out fire fighter style. And Stiles fell under to the pain.


	5. Shindig

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott placed 'Stiles' on the bed, as Cora set Lydia on the other.

Scott placed 'Stiles' on the bed, as Cora set Lydia on the other. 

Lydia scurried up though, as soon as Cora's hold on her was gone. She jumped on bed with 'Stiles'.

Her partner was passed out though, so it didn't do much good. 

"Are you going to explain to us what's going on?" Cora snapped.

"Cora," Scott reigned her in. "Let them rest, why don't you go get some things to bandage this guy?" he gave her a look. She rolled her eyes and slipped out the door, taking the key. 

Scott looked to the redhead. "I'm Scott," he held out a hand to her. 

She didn't look at him, instead checking her partner for injuries. She moved with precision and an air of calm. And even though she was gross and covered in dried blood and dirt and whatever else, she still looked gorgeous. Her greasy hair was shoved out of her face exposing her hazel eyes and busted full lips. 

He then stopped checking her out and started blushing. 

"Do you want to shower?" He offered. 

She continued to ignore him and started to shake the others shoulder, hearing bones roll. 

"His shoulders out of place, hold him down," she finally said. 

Scott obliged and held him steady. 

She slammed her body weight into the unconscious man. 

He woke up screaming and blinking at the light and then turning his head towards Scott. 

"You are not... The hot chick from... Before," he managed to rasp, a frown pulling at his face. "But still... Equally as hot." The frown turned up a little.

Scott smiled a little at that, turning a little red in the cheeks. 

Lydia rolled her eyes. 

"I'm Scott," Scott held out a hand, releasing 'Stiles' body. 'Stiles' wavered before Lydia steadied him.

Stiles took the offered hand, wincing at his shoulder moving with the rest of him. 

"Stiles, and that's my shining star, Lydia," he jerked a bloody chin to the redhead, who promptly rolled her eyes and looked to Scott. She didn't take him in like Stiles did.

While her partner did it with subtle exchanges, and small unseen looks, she bluntly looked him over with cold calculation and disinterest.  
"And your partner?" She asked.

"Her name is Cora, she's, uh," Scott gave a nervous lopsided grin. "A little hard to handle at times."

"I can roll with that," Stiles looked around, "but it seems she's not here."

Lydia rolled her eyes and pulled a face at her hair.

"I'm going to shower, there better be towels, soap and clothes," she demanded. 

"Uh, towels and soap, yes, but clothes... You can borrow mine until we can buy you some more," Scott offered. 

She gave a put upon sigh and waved him on. 

He scrambled up, almost tripped over his own feet and slammed into the dresser to stop himself. Lydia laid her face in her hands. "How dis this idiots save us?" she groaned to Stiles. 

Stiles laughed and looked to Scott. "You get used to it," he shrugged. 

Scott got out his shirt he had planned for tomorrow and some sweat pants. He didn't know if he should give her his boxers or not, but he did just in case. 

He held out the clothes and she gave him a look, taking them and setting them on the bed. She pulled Stiles up, despite Scott's warnings and Stiles complaints. 

Stiles picked the clothes up weakly, heavily leaning on her and she helped him limp into the small bathroom. 

Scott frowned. He didn't think they were anything other than friends, but he could be wrong. He frowned more heavily. Stiles was a cool guy, and he didn't want to be a total douche. 

Well, his dreams were crushed.  


 

Cora came in, making Scott jump. They had been in there for over 10 minutes. 

"Where are they?" she demanded.

"Bathroom," he pointed.

She stormed over, opening the door. 

Steam billowed out and Scott waited patiently for her report. She closed it silently.

"What's going on in there?" he asked.

"She's giving him a sponge bath and griping at him about how much of an idiot he is, and she's in your clothes. Why is she in your clothes?"

He blushed.

"She wanted to shower," he shrugged. 

Cora rolled her eyes. 

She knocked this time instead of opening the door.

"Hey, coming in," she said.

"Go ahead! We're mostly decent!" Stiles called back.

She rolled her eyes, looking to Scott.

Scott smiled a little, because Stiles was a cool guy.

She pushed the door open and Scott saw the excessive amounts of wounds on Stiles first. Saw every too deep cut, too yellow to be anything but the inside muscle and fat and too battered for him to be walking around. He had his pants on, so there was no telling about the legs though. Scott could guess they looked worse, seeing as how one of them still had a knife embedded in it because they didnt know if it had hit bone or muscles and it was too dangerous for them to do without supplies.

Supplies Cora now had.

Lydia came into Scott's view next, in his clothes. It had Scott blushing in an instant, thinking of her in his clothes in a less 'i-had-nothing-else-but-this' manner. In a more 'i-want-everyone-to-know-I'm-yours' type way. Had him shifting and trying not to let it affect him too much. 

Cora waltzed into the bathroom.

"I'll leave you two, me and... Scott, was it?" she didn't wait for his nod of acknowledgment, "Yes, Scott, we need to talk."

She walked out, channeling her inner supermodel, but something told Scott that that was just the way she walked normally.

Cora closed the door behind her, the embodiment of sass.

Scott looked to Lydia.

"You're TAHO's Scott, aren't you?" she demanded.

And that's when things get serious.


End file.
